Sickness
by Dlbn
Summary: Seimei really needed to work on his bedside manner. When Nisei gets sick, a visit from his Sacrifice is the LAST thing he wants. Birthday fic for Siemei


Disclaimer: I do NOT own Nisei, Seimei, Mimuro or anyone/anything from/in Loveless. It all belongs to Yun Kouga! I do own Nisei's brother Hideki (mentioned but not seen). I make NO money off of this work of fiction.

Dedication: This fic is dedicated to the birthday of Aoyagi Seimei! If he were real, he'd be 29 (almost 30! According to the wiki, Ritsuka was born in 1990. I was born in 1990 so Seimei is five years my senior. Oh god, I'm getting old T_T) It is also dedicated to the birthday of my very good friend Michelle! For two weeks, we'll be the same age haha XD

000

Pulling the heavy fleece blanket up to cover his nose, Nisei cursed his master to hell and back. If the bastard hadn't _insisted_ on staying in his bed while he had to sleep on the couch with only a blanket to cover him from the cold, he probably _wouldn't_ be suffering from a cold right about now. But, alas, the selfish little prick forced him to sleep on the couch and, thus, was the cause of his cold as well. Ironically, he had stopped coming over and vehemently refused to do so until his Fighter got better. The temptation of going over to the old woman's house, where Seimei _usually_ hid, to irritate him was strong, but he didn't feel like dealing with both a pissed off Seimei and an irritated Nakahira; the woman's much younger caregiver. So instead, he settled for a few annoyed texts to Mimuro (until the blonde finally told him to shut up and try to rest so he could recover) and sulking on his couch under the blanket. He _could_ get up to get himself a cup of hot tea or soda or something of the like to soothe his burning throat, but the idea of getting up out of his seat wasn't very tempting at all. The idea that he could just use a spell to make the drink come to _him_ hadn't yet hit his throbbing mind.

He heard the front door open but ignored it. Plenty of people had a key to the apartment (Seimei, Mimuro, his elder brother, to name a few), so he didn't really bother to see who it was. He knew it wasn't a burglar. He coughed involuntarily, alerting his new visitor to his location.

"What are you doing?" The voice of his sacrifice sneered. "Go take care of yourself. Don't just sit there."

Nisei looked over the couch at the neko and couldn't help but laugh. Seimei wore gloves, a heavy jacket, and a surgical mask. Nearly every inch of him was covered, as if he feared that just entering Nisei's house was enough to get him sick.

"You look stupid, you know." Nisei cracked a weak smirk before coughing took over once again.

Seimei rolled his eyes. "Pardon if I don't want to get sick, as well." He snorted.

Nisei rolled his eyes. "Then why didn't you just stay away, baka?"

Seimei glared. "Nakahira was getting to be irritating." He stated. "Giving me orders…"

He plopped down on the armchair across from Nisei, but far enough so they couldn't be in direct contact unless one of them stood up and walked over. Nisei was in no condition to do so, and Seimei sure as hell wasn't getting near the diseased one, so there was no chance of them contacting.

"Did you bring me something to make me better?" Nisei cocked an eyebrow. "Or are you simply here to get away from someone who's annoying you?"

"Do you honestly think I have the money to waste on your hide?"

Nisei groaned, sinking further into the couch. "One would think that you'd bring food to sick friends."

"We're not friends."

"Ow, that hurts." Nisei said emotionlessly.

Seimei rolled his eyes. "Sure it does."

Neither spoke for a few minutes. Nisei's pained coughing was the only sound in the room as silence otherwise reigned.

"Have you done anything to take care of yourself?"

"I took a hot shower yesterday…"

"Anything else?"

"I made soup the first day…"

"And…?"

"That's about it."

Seimei rolled his eyes. "No medicine?"

"I hate medicines."

"Keeping hydrated?"

"I want a drink…"

"So get one."

"It's too cold to get up and get one…"

"Stop your whining." Seimei's tone indicated an order without him having to specifically say it.

Nisei clamped his mouth shut, jaw straining as a coughing fit threatened to break through. He finally gave in and covered his hand with a fist.

"Don't use your hand!" Seimei threw a box of tissues at the raven.

"You have great bedside manner, Seimei." Nisei sneered after the tissues hit his temple and settled on his blanket-covered lap.

He picked it up and blew his nose into one Kleenex, tossing it onto the coffee table.

"That's disgusting." Seimei told him. "Don't you have a trash can?"

Nisei pointed to the closest trash can, which was sitting next to the kitchen counter.

"And you don't bring it in here because…?"

"Do I have to bring up the fact that it hurts to move?" Nisei wondered.

Seimei rolled his eyes. "Either take care of yourself or I'm dragging your ass to a doctor."

"You won't touch me when I'm sick."

"I can order you to go."

"I won't listen." Nisei shuffled underneath his blanket further. "I hate the doctor…"

"Then I'll have your…friend…drag you there _for_ me."

"Mimuro? He won't do _anything_ for _you_…"

"No, but he'll so _anything_ for _you_."

God damn it.

"Fine, you win." Nisei sighed.

He pulled the blanket over his head and wore it like a cloak over to the trash can to throw out his used tissue. He made his way further into the kitchen to switch on the stove burner under the kettle, before pulling a bottle of ginger ale from the fridge and pouring it into a cup from the cabinet. He settled in at the kitchen table with his blanket and took a sip of the soda. It burned his throat a little, but he was happy to have it finally. Seimei made his way to the kitchen and leaned against the countertop. Nisei watched him over the top of his mug, wondering what his germaphobe of a master was gaining from being so close to him while he was sick. Sure, he was a few feet away, but that was unusual for him where germs were concerned.

"What?" He asked at last, clearing his throat.

"Nothing."

"Making sure I don't keel over and die?"

"I don't care if you do." Seimei folded his arms over his chest.

"Oh, come on, _master_, you _know_ you're useless without me."

"Like you can do a damn thing on your own."

"We both know I can. I'm the one who can use word spell here, not you. I'm rather useful." Nisei smirked, feeling a little better from getting the chance to take shots at his master that wouldn't end up in him being injured. "You, on the other hand, can't be bothered to get your own hands dirty and need servants to do everything for you."

"If you're dead, I can just replace you with Soubi."

Nisei's mouth pressed into a thin line. "And take him away from Ritsuka? Yeah, like you'd do that. Oh, wait, your brother's tears mean nothing to you anymore. I forgot." He leaned back in the chair, smirking.

Seimei was clearly seething, but did nothing out of fear of Nisei's germs. "Take it back, Akame."

"Oh, last name calling." Nisei coughed. "You _must_ be serious now."

"You heard me. If you value your life, take it back. That's an _order_."

"That may work on Agatsuma, but not on me." Nisei stated smugly. "You're not going to do anything."

"Take it back, or once you've recovered and I can get near you, I'll shove my knife so far up your ass you can taste it."

"That would mean that part of your arm would have to go in me, too, and I _doubt_ you'd want that."

Nisei laughed at the look on Seimei's face, but broke into non-stop coughing halfway through. His sacrifice rolled his plum eyes.

"Are you just about done?" He wondered.

Nisei held up his pointer finger on his non-name hand and took a sip of soda to stop his coughing.

"Now I am." He stated, once he was able to speak.

Seimei opened his mouth to snap back at him, but the whistling of the heated tea kettle shut him up. Nisei shut off the burner and prepared his tea, adding some honey, before sitting back down.

"If you want some, you can make yourself a cup, you know." Nisei stated, seeing Seimei eye the steaming cup.

"No, I don't need that, thank you. Your germs are all over it."

"I should cough on you…"

"Do and it will be the last thing you ever do."

Nisei rolled his eyes. "You won't touch me because I'm sick. Get real, Seimei, be honest with yourself."

"You'll get better."

"You'll forget."

"I never do."

"Elephant."

Seimei glared daggers at the sick male. Nisei shrunk in his seat and took a deep whiff of the tea.

"Mm…" He muttered.

Silence reigned as the tea cooled and Nisei was able to drink some of it. The front door creaked open, announcing someone else's presence. Nisei sensed Mimuro before he announced his presence. He saw Seimei grimace and realize he had sensed him as well. He smirked. Poor jealous little Seimei.

"Hey, Nisei, how are you feeling?" Mimuro greeted as he entered the kitchen.

The blonde seemed startled to see Seimei standing there.

"Why is _he_ here?" Mimuro wondered.

"I still don't know." Nisei admitted. "He claims the little guard boy at the place he's hiding at was irritating him."

Seimei shrugged. "He was."

"You're a little late for Halloween, Seimei." Mimuro joked.

"Huh?"

Mimuro pointed to his mouth to indicate the surgical mask.

"Pardon me. I didn't think it was such a problem that I don't want to catch whatever he has."

"I don't think you can catch psychosis. And if anyone caught it from anyone, he caught it from you." Mimuro smirked. "How are you feeling?" He asked Nisei again.

"Don't start, you two." Nisei sighed, having grown rather used to settling disputes between the two teens. "I'll be fine."

"Not what I asked."

"But it's my answer."

"You're an ass." Seimei rolled his eyes.

"Takes one to know one, _master_." Nisei smirked.

He was clearly playing with both of them by now, and both knew it, but neither wanted to call him out on it.

"Have you seen a doctor?" Mimuro wondered.

"I hate doctors."

"You should go anyway…"

Seimei cocked an eyebrow. The Fearless sacrifice seemed genuinely concerned, as far as he could tell. What did it matter to him if Nisei was well or not? Yes, they were friends, but so what? He could have just sent him a text or called him. Not showed up unannounced. And why the hell did _he_ have a key to the apartment?

"Why does it matter to you if he does or not?"

"Because I want him to get better. He's my _friend_, Seimei. Unfamiliar with the concept, are we?"

Seimei glared. "But why are you so concerned? It isn't like he's dying or anything."

Mimuro muttered something about psychopaths and the inability to feel compassion, but didn't answer or address him directly. Nisei giggled into his cup before taking a sip as Seimei glared at him.

"Have you at least been taking care of yourself?"

"I've had soda for my throat and now tea, and some soup yesterday."

Mimuro's brow furrowed. "When yesterday?"

"Uh…when were you here last?"

"You were here before, too?" Seimei wondered.

He was ignored.

"You haven't had anything to eat since I made soup for you at _noon_ yesterday?"

Seimei glanced at the wall clock. It was about five in the afternoon now. He hadn't eaten in over twenty-four hours, which explained why he looked out of it. More so then what was usual for someone who was sick. As far as he knew, anyway. He'd never been sick a day in his life, he made damn _certain_ of that, but Ritsuka had caught colds a few times growing up, most likely from his idiotic classmates.

"Uh…no…"

"Baka." Mimuro rolled his eyes. "Want more?"

"He can make it himself."

"When someone's sick, you take _care_ of them." Mimuro snapped. "Oh, but then again, I forgot. You refuse to do any manual labor and only care about yourself and your brother." He snorted.

"There's something wrong with that?" Seimei glared, but he was smirking under the surgical mask.

Nisei rolled his eyes and stood. They could bicker all they wanted. He wasn't playing referee anymore. He exited the kitchen as the other males bickered back and forth. Neither seemed to notice, though he had physically pushed _past_ Mimuro to get out of the kitchen. He flopped down on the couch to finish up the last of his tea. It took a few minutes for someone to notice he was gone. Unfortunately, that someone was a raven haired neko and not a blonde one. Seimei glared at Seimei over his cup as he watched his Sacrifice walk back to the armchair and sit down. He reached into the messenger bag he had been carrying with him and produced a book. Nisei watched as delicate fingers slipped reading glasses onto the sacrifice's face before the book was cracked open to the last page he was on. Seimei caught him staring and looked up at him.

"What?" He wondered.

"Nothing."

Seimei went back to reading.

"Mimuro? What are you doing in there?" Nisei called to the kitchen.

"Making you soup." Mimuro said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. "I asked a certain someone to help but, you know, the whole 'no manual labor' thing."

"I thought I won that argument." Seimei informed the blonde, not bothering to look at him.

"No, I just got tired of hearing your voice." Mimuro stated. "You're as bad as Mei, only you're older and not a girl. That I know of, anyway."

Nisei chuckled as Mimuro turned on his heel and went back into the kitchen. Seimei rolled his eyes, obviously un-amused.

"Who else has a key?" The sacrifice wondered.

"What?" His fighter blinked. "To where?"

"Your apartment, obviously. I _know_ I locked the door behind me when I came in…"

"Oh, just you two…and my brother…"

"Why…?"

"He's _convinced_, extremely _convinced_ that one day they're going to get a phone call that I've gone missing and he's going to come over to find me dead on the floor." He shrugged one shoulder. "I doubt Septimal Moon would leave my body behind as evidence, but he doesn't know about them. Besides, he seems to think I'm either going to piss off the wrong people, overdose, or get drunk off my ass and hit my head on the way down."

Seimei cocked an eyebrow. "Drugs? Honestly?"

Nisei nodded. "I've never experimented or anything like that, but he's convinced I'm a jackass because I'm stuck in some intense withdrawal period."

"Now where would he ever get _that_ idea?"

"Don't ask!" Mimuro called from the kitchen. "You don't want to know that story!"

"Now I do…"

Nisei rolled his eyes. "I wrote a paper in eighth grade that was…questionable…"

"I guess I really don't care as much as I thought I might." Seimei went back to his book.

Nisei rolled his eyes.

"Why does he think it will be liquor related?"

"The day we met, he was drunk as hell." Mimuro stated, appearing again. "At a Halloween party my cousin was throwing, no less."

"Hey, I was fourteen and I was tricked into drinking so much. Shut up."

"You seemed to be enjoying yourself when I saw you in the living room…"

"And we both know how _that_ ended, so _shut up_." Nisei glared, daring his friend to say another word to him about it.

Mimuro put up his hands, one holding a spoon, in a defenseless manner. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but…" He sighed. "Seimei, you want soup?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, I won't want soup."

"I think he wants you to say thank you." Nisei offered.

"You _do_ know how to say that word, right? Arigato." Mimuro informed. "Say it with me. Are-e-gah-toe."

Nisei chuckled as Seimei glared daggers. Mimuro went back to his cooking, satisfied.

"How does that story end?" Seimei asked.

"Me being drunk off my ass, having a massive hangover, running into Mimuro and becoming friends as I periodically emptied the contents of my stomach down a toilet…and into a defenseless plant…"

"Twice for the plant." Mimuro offered.

"Anyway, my father's worse on my cause of death. Self-inflicted gunshot wound to the back of the skull or forehead, erotic asphyxiation, walking into traffic without looking, the yakuza…"

"He seems certain it's going to be self-inflicted."

Nisei shrugged. "He's a jerk." He stated. "Thinking I'm stupid enough to die from walking into traffic on accident or that I get off from being strangled…"

"A very…imaginative family you have." Seimei chuckled. "Though, I'm pretty certain my father thought I'd die of something stupid as well."

"Then you were 'set on fire'," Nisei made air quotes. "And he probably realized he was wrong."

"Or thought I was smoking and dropped a match on myself and didn't have the sense to drop and roll."

"In an elementary school classroom?" Nisei cocked an eyebrow.

Seimei shrugged. "My father's an idiot. A useless idiot."

"So I've been told." Nisei nodded.

"A thousand times if once." Mimuro tossed in from the kitchen.

Seimei had almost started to believe that it was just he and Nisei, but Mimuro's voice ruined that otherwise happy train of thought.

"Like you don't complain about your own family almost every day."

Nisei shrugged. "I have reason."

"Name it."

Nisei sighed. "My parents never wanted kids, yet had three and have never failed to remind us of that at every possible chance. My brother's little inferiority complex makes him bend to our parents' whims and he tries to get _me_ to conform too, but I refuse to."

"If there's three of you, then why did you only mention two?"

"I have no issues with my sister." Nisei shrugged. "She's the favorite, if that means anything. Hideki spent too much time trying to defend me while simultaneously trying to change me while my parents _weren't_ around for them to take him as the favorite."

"She's the youngest _and_ the only girl." Mimuro entered the room with a cup of soup. He set it on the table in front of Nisei. "Of course she's the favorite."

He plopped down next to the fighter, ignoring the incredulous look Seimei was giving him.

"You know he's sick…" Seimei started to protest.

"And…?"

"Why are you sitting so close?"

"I won't catch it just from sitting next to him." Mimuro stated. "Plus, I hardly ever get sick, and he kind of got it from me…"

Seimei rolled his eyes. "Figures." He stated. "And since you claim you can't catch it just from proximity, I don't want to know what you two were doing that he was able to catch it off of you."

Mimuro rolled his eyes. "So you're secretly a pervert, eh, _Beloved_."

Seimei glared. "You don't have the right to call me that, _Fearless_."

"You don't have the right to call me _that_ either." Mimuro snapped.

"Shut up." Nisei ordered them, leaning over to blow over the soup and cool it.

They ignored him.

"Don't start with me." Seimei warned.

"Or what? You'll make Nisei go after me _for_ you?" Mimuro rolled his eyes and leaned back in the couch, folding his arms over his chest. "Nice try, but he won't hurt me."

"Oh?"

Nisei nodded, grabbing the spoon. "Yeah, it wouldn't be very productive of me to kill my best friend." He informed.

Seimei didn't reply to that.

"I'm assuming you don't know how that feels." Mimuro smirked.

"Thin ice, Fearless. You're treading on thin ice."

"I told you that you can't call me that."

"That isn't my problem."

If looks could kill, Seimei would have been dead by now, Nisei was certain.

"It's not like you'd do anything, anyway."

"Don't be so sure." Nisei warned. "He has a knife."

"And he's going to use it? I just got over being sick, so I doubt he'll want to go near me."

"You're not sick right now, are you?"

"…No…but he is."

"Don't use me as a human shield. This isn't a battle, and I'm not your fighter, Mimuro." Nisei butted in.

Mimuro chuckled. "Unfortunately, you're his…"

Seimei smirked. Sounded like someone else was jealous. Then again, the blonde _did_ have some untrained fourth or fifth grader-he wasn't sure and didn't care-as a fighter and, apparently, listening was _not_ one of her strong points. To her sacrifice or otherwise. Seimei had met her only once when they'd all had lunch together. Mimuro hadn't been so bold with his taunts then, probably fearing for her safety. _Pathetic_.

"Hm, yes." Nisei nodded, sipping soup off the spoon and grimacing when he realized it was too hot. "But there's nothing you can do about that. Unlike Agatsuma, I'm not a _blank_."

According to Nisei's philosophy, being a blank made Soubi a lower fighter then him, although the power difference between them _clearly _put Soubi at a much higher rank. Ritsu has once said that being a blank made Soubi 'special', but then again the sensei had been trying to get into the blonde's pants for most of his life, and had trained Soubi himself.

"Blank or not, he's stronger then you."

Seimei pretended not to see the hurt in his fighter's chocolate eyes, but it was hard to ignore. Nisei didn't have feelings, let alone the ability to feel _hurt_ by anyone. From the daggers Mimuro was glaring at him, he concluded that it _hadn't_ been a figment of his imagination. The revelation shook him to the core. Nisei was a self-proclaimed psychopath-or was it sociopath?-and psychopaths/sociopaths didn't experience emotion like others did. Seimei would know, being a psychopath himself; as he was so dubbed by Septimal Moon, numerous other enemies, and even his own fighter. As long as Ritsuka didn't think of him as one, he was happy. To hell what others thought. To hell with others in general, actually.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that hurt." Seimei stated.

"Keen observation." Nisei hissed, breaking into a coughing fit.

Mimuro rubbed his upper back. "See what you do?"

"How is it my fault?"

"Nothing's _ever_ your fault, is it?"

"_I_ didn't get him sick."

"You pissed him off."

"He can control his temper."

"Oh, like you?"

"Listen, _Fearless_…"

"No, _you_ listen, Aoyagi." Mimuro hissed. "I am sick of the way you treat Nisei when he does _everything_ for you but wipe your rear end. I can take a bunch of jabs at me because I know it's an attempt to intimidate me because you're secretly afraid that someone might _not_ like you and can see _through_ your bullshit. But _he_ doesn't do anything to deserve you being a total pain in the ass."

Seimei opened his mouth to reply, but Nisei cut him off.

"Would both of you _shut up_ for _once_?! You'vebeen at each other's throats since Mimuro got here, and I'm sick of it." He chuckled at his own joke but regained a rather stern expression. "You hate one another, I get it. But for the sake of my sanity, just put it off until I'm better and can deal with your shit. Got it?"

Neither sacrifice spoke for a few minutes.

"Sorry." Mimuro told him, lightly patting him on the back.

Seimei merely grunted and went back to his book. Nisei rolled his eyes. That was the closest thing to the word 'sorry' that had ever come from Seimei. Thankfully, Mimuro didn't protest the wordless reply.

"It's fine. Just save it for later." Nisei ordered, going back to eating soup.

Satisfied that his sick friend was finally eating something that was good for him, Mimuro pulled a handheld gaming system out of his pocket and turned it on. Nisei leaned back on the couch as he ate to watch his friend play. The sounds coming from the video game as Mimuro slayed virtual enemies were the only sound in the apartment, aside from Seimei's occasional page flipping and Nisei's occasional soup slurping. Finally, it seemed there would be _some _kind of peace for the sick raven while both sacrifices were there, after all.

"Hey." Seimei spoke.

Nisei and Mimuro both grunted in response.

"Can you turn the volume down?"

And with a retort from Mimuro, the peace was shattered.

000

Long after Mimuro had gone home to his worried mother and Seimei had gone to bed with what he claimed was an 'elephant sized headache' (to match his elephant sized ego, Nisei had quipped at him), Nisei stood in front of his bathroom mirror. He looked as exhausted as he felt. Darkened eyes and pale skin were staring back at him mockingly in the mirror. His hair was semi-plastered to his forehead from sweat, and he looked like, well, complete shit. Stupid Seimei and stupid Mimuro, making things worse for him. They hadn't been able to stay in one room together without fighting, with or without Nisei being present. He had tried to nap, but that idea had gone out the window the moment he entered his room and heard Seimei protest about him contaminating the bed and Mimuro calling him insensitive and starting a fight. Instead, he settled for coughing on his own pillow and hoping Seimei would catch it. He gripped the sink harshly in his hands. If it wasn't for Seimei coming over unannounced and deciding to move back in with him, he could have had a nice, quiet, hopefully relaxing evening with Mimuro. The blonde would not only make _sure_ he took a nap, but might even join him if Nisei asked him to. He certainly didn't mind. After all, they'd had plenty of sleepovers where they'd ended up sharing a bed due to lack of space. Nisei felt his face heat up, and it wasn't from the fever. He shook out the thoughts but found that that made him dizzy and stopped.

Without thinking, he grabbed a blue toothbrush from the holder. His was green, and the blue was Seimei's. He smirked. It was already wet from the neko brushing his teeth earlier, so he didn't need to worry about that. Nisei opened his mouth and scrubbed his tongue with the toothbrush, before drawing it over both rows of teeth a few times and putting it back. He then set up his own toothbrush and actually brushed his teeth before putting it back. He shut the bathroom light off, winking at himself and exited the bathroom to go back to the living room. Even though he was sick, Seimei refused to give up the bed for him. Served the bastard right. Then again, he really needed to invest in a guest bed one of these days. He had enough money to do so but it hadn't yet occurred to him. If his father found out about Seimei living there, he'd probably stop paying the rent and electricity on him…again. (Revenge for Nisei not keeping his grades up as he had promised he would do while living on his own).

The fighter checked on his sacrifice to see that he was indeed still asleep. He picked up Seimei's almost empty cup of water and took a sip before setting it back in the same position and wiping his lip stains off the cup so Seimei wouldn't know he had taken a drink. He left the room after shutting the door behind him. Although half asleep and lethargic from being sick, he quickly made his way to the living room. He flopped down on the couch and crawled underneath the blanket. Oh, how he wished he could have stayed at Mimuro's for the night. Though his mother wouldn't let him _because_ he was sick and wouldn't understand that the reason he was there was that he was forced to give up his room for his selfish, sadistic bastard of a master. She'd end up calling the police and, though it would be funny seeing Seimei try to explain to the police how he had the same name and appearance as a teenager that had been murdered a year and a half ago, it wouldn't be worth the headache of bailing him out and getting thrown under the bus involving the fire.

Sighing, he pulled the blankets up over his head and curled into a ball as well as he could with what little room he had. At least the coughing had subsided for now. His mind halfway restless and halfway exhausted, it took only an hour for him to finally fall asleep.

000

The following week, Nisei skimmed through his textbook on programming for his technology class. His illness had finally subsided, and he was quite certain it had only been either a sinus infection or a minor cold of some sort. His eyes had settled on the answer and he was about to copy it when his front door slamming shut interrupted his concentration. He cursed.

Seimei entered the room, bundled up in a heavy winter coat, gloves, a hat, and a scarf. His ears weren't visible and his eyes looked sunken in. His nose was tipped red, and his face was flushed. Nisei would have thought it was from the cold if, when Seimei had peeled off his layers and put them on the coat hanger, he wasn't glaring daggers at the elder teen.

Nisei cocked an eyebrow and went back to work finding the answer again. "What's wrong with you?" he wondered. "I don't control the weather, so don't bitch because it's cold out."

"It's not the _weather_." Seimei hissed.

He broke into a violent fit of coughing, making Nisei smirk. The neko crashed onto the couch and pulled the blanket up to his nose.

"I got what you had…" Seimei glared.

"I brushed my teeth with your toothbrush, coughed on my pillow when I went to try and take a nap but couldn't because of you two arguing, and drank from your cup while you slept." Nisei glanced at him over the top of the book, hand pausing in mid-writing. "You deserved it for being such an asshole. To Mimuro _and_ me."

"You're going to pay for that." Seimei snarled at him. "I hate you so much…"

"The feeling's mutual, Seimei. The feeling's mutual."


End file.
